"Hey, Barney," said the Y skipper.
"Hey, BTit. Been a long time."
The Y'tata winked one piggy red eye. "This is the guy."
I did my Joru thing. "Do I have the pleasure of addressing Barney Cornwall?"
"Pleasure?" The man in the blue jumpsuit gave a hard laugh. "We'll have to see about that."
"Before we go any further," I said firmly, "I must tell you that a certain associate on my home world recommended Trader Cornwall as the person most likely to know the true value of... certain extremely specialized goods I am offering for sale. You must forgive me if I verify your identity."
"What!" BTit exclaimed. "You want a DNA profile? It's Barney Cornwall in the flesh, you Joru dipstick! Every big-time freebooter in the Sag knows him. Now pay me!"
"Me, too," Sh'muz whispered. "Please?"
I took a pair of EFT cards out of my baldric and programmed them with the agreed amounts, flapped a wait-a-bit paw at the two Y'tata, and addressed the man at the table. "There is a simple way to prove you are Barney Cornwall. Please tell me your other nickname."
His dark eyes turned to slits and I felt a brief touch of uneasiness. But after a prolonged pause, he smiled again and said softly, "Some people call me Barky."
"The very answer I had hoped for! Thank you for enduring my necessary gaucherie in a civilized manner." I handed EFT cards to each of the Y'tata. "And now I must insist that you two entities depart forthwith." Sh'muz scuttled off, but B'lit continued to stand there, smirking insolently. "Go!" I roared. Grabbing the copper epaulets of his uniform vest, I spun him about and gave him a propelling knee in the backside.
Bad move. He laughed, then retaliated as only a Y'tata can, strolling out of the place in a fusillade of farts as patrons rushed to get out of his way, groaning and cursing. But an instant later some sort of powerful exhaust fan kicked in and quickly sucked up the reek. I suppose there was a special sensor for social errors in this sort of place. The bartender cried, "Drinks on the house!" and any potential exodus was nipped in the bud.
Barky Tregarth was unperturbed. He indicated the seat opposite him and said, "Sit down." When I did, he stared at me in silence for several minutes, finishing his stein of beer. Then he gave a little nod, as though satisfied by his inspection, and placed a small object on the table between us.
It was one of the biocontainers of doctored PD32:C2 I'd handed out to the arms dealers the day before.
"Terrific bait!" he said. "The real thing. I had it checked out. And that's a damned good xeno disguise, too."
My innards turned to ice. I sat without moving. He'd made me as a human and a fraud, probably knew I was Ram Mahtani's mystery client. But did he know who I really was? And was there still a chance I could pull off the abduction?
He continued, "I knew you were looking for me as soon as your Y'tata bud contacted Captain B'lit yesterday. I had to check you out, after a warning that I got from a friend on Earth, so I had one of my people zap your paw with a diagnosticon in the seventh gun shop you visited yesterday. A medical body scanner, you know? You never noticed the gadget sitting on the counter. It said the skin of your hand wasn't alive. Imagine that! So you're not a Joru, and there's no new source of PD32:C2, and I'm kinda pissed off 'cause I was really hoping somebody had the fuckin' key to El Dorado for sale."
"There's still a lot of money to be made," I said, and started to open my baldric pouch.
"Hold still," Barky hissed. "You wouldn't be dumb enough to reach for a gun, would you? An associate of mine at the table behind you has you targeted. And I know about the Kagi and the Ivanov stashed up your sleeves."
But do you also know about my body armor? And my force-field generator?
"I'm reaching for another EFT card," I explained. "A very friendly sort of weapon. May I?"
He inclined his head and I pulled the little slip of plastic out and passed it across the table. It was Adam Stanislawski's last minute contribution to the war chest. Barky Tregarth's eyebrows rose as he checked the load readout. "A nice sum. Not El Dorado, but... nice. What do you want?"
"Information only. Confirmed psychotronically."
He laughed. "I'm just a gunrunner and innkeeper. Moderately prosperous in my old age. What do I know worth that kind of money?"
I leaned forward and pointed to the pendant hanging around his neck. "Where did your jewelry come from?"
He sat stock still, then said, "So that's it."
"I've seen that kind of fossil before, on the planet Artiuk, a Haluk colony in the Spur. Some of the local officials and other dignitaries I met on a visit there wore the pendants as badges of honor. But you didn't get yours in a Haluk Spur colony, did you, Barky?"
"No," he said calmly.
"It was given to you in the Haluk Cluster, wasn't it? That's why you were so anxious to redeem it from Clifton Castle, the fence who lent you the money you needed to escape from Tyrins, thirty-five years ago."
"You seem to know a lot about me."
"I have no animus against you. I'm not at all interested in your shady business career. But I do want to know what you saw when you visited the Haluk Cluster. I want any information you have on their population density, the total number of inhabited planets, the demographic pressures that drove them to emigrate to the Perseus Spur. I want to know how big a supply of transactinide elements they have out there in their cluster, and how they mine ultraheavies, given their inferior technology. And I'd like to know what they're doing here, in the Sag."
"Who are you?" Barky Tregarth asked.
"My name isn't important, but I do have some important friends. One of them is responsible for the stake on that EFT card. I believe that the Haluk are still hostile to humanity and plan to invade our galaxy. Part of their strategy involves attacks on our starships. That's going on right here and now, in the Sagittarius Whorl. Haluk bandits are hijacking trans-ack carriers, and Sheltok Concern is doing a big cover-up, pressured by other members of the Haluk Consortium who do business with the aliens. The Haluk scheme for domination also involves infiltration—a conquest from within. My friends and I have proof that Haluk masquerading as human beings have wormed their way into the Hundred Concerns. They may even have spies in our government. We need more evidence to support our contention that the Haluk represent a serious threat to human security. When we get it, we'll put it before the Commonwealth Assembly. Public opinion will force the Delegates to reexamine the Haluk nonaggression pact and their trade treaty."
Barky was still holding the nonactive EFT card, doing the old gambler's trick of "walking" it from one finger to another. "Politics!" He gave a bleat of derisive laughter. "Fuck that. I'm a Throwaway—a noncitizen. The Commonwealth says I don't exist. Why should I give a hoot in hell if blueberry raiders heist trans-ack carriers? In the Sag, Sheltok charges stargoing aliens and independent human operators twice as much for fuel as it charges Concern ships. So the Haluk even the score, with a little help from the Y'tata. Big deal."
"I think they're planning to wage war, Barky. Interrupting our supply of vital fuel elements is only part of their strategy"
"That's a crock of shit. The Haluk want to trade, not fight."
"Are they buying weapons from you?"
"Sure! It's no big thing. So do the real Joru, and the Kalleyni, and the Y. I'm the biggest gun-peddler on Phleg. And you know where I get my merchandise? From Carnelian, and from over a dozen other Concerns who wink at contraband trafficking. What do those corporate ass-wipes in Toronto care where the stuff goes, as long as the price is right? As for your war idea, I think it's crapola. There aren't enough Haluk fighting ships in the Sag to wage war on the Kalleyni fruit fleet—much less the Human Commonwealth."
"Do you know how many Haluk ships are operating here?"
He held up the EFT card between two fingers. "Will the blueberries know I sold 'em out if I talk to you?"
"No," I lied. "Whatever I learn from you will only be used back on Earth. For political purposes, as you said. My friends and
I have no interest whatsoever in shutting down your Phlegethon operation or halting your trade with the Haluk. Even if we did, how could we? The asteroid is Sheltok property. CCID and the Secretariat enforcers have no authority here unless Sheltok grants it. That won't happen."
"I can't compromise my Haluk tie-in."
"You don't have to. Any questions I ask that you don't want to answer—don't. We can still do business."
"Maybe." He was twiddling the card again, apparently weighing the pros and cons. As he'd observed, it was a nice amount of money.
I said, "If you talk to me, you'll be just another confidential source. CHW can't touch you. As you pointed out, you're an important man here on Phlegethon."
"Damn straight," said Barky Tregarth, grinning. "You try anything cute, you're one dead Joru fucker."
I nodded submissively. "I have a Hogan miniature psychotronic interrogation device in my case—useless for prying the truth out of reluctant subjects, but it will indicate whether a cooperative person is telling the truth. You can sit right here and tell me about your adventure in the Haluk Cluster—that's the thing I'm most interested in—then add whatever else you wish to tell me about Haluk activity in the Sag. I can check your veracity with a single question: 'Is everything you've said the truth?' If the machine confirms your reply, I'll activate the plastic. You'll be richer by four million. What do you say?"
"What the hey! Why not? You know, it's kinda gratifying to finally find somebody who believes that I made the Big Trip."
A waitress came up behind me and asked if we wanted another round of drinks.
Barky gave her a big smile. "Another stein of Peg-Leg for me, Lola. And my friend ..."
"Jack Daniel's," I said. "Straight up."
"I thought Joru didn't like whiskey," the waitress said. "It is an acquired taste," I replied over my shoulder, "and I've just acquired it."
It was not so much the great distance to the Haluk Cluster that had deterred exploration by the Commonwealth of Human Worlds so much as the uselessness of the enterprise. The implacably hostile aliens wanted nothing to do with humanity, and in the early days of human galactic exploration the Haluk backed up their antipathy with enough firepower to deter CHW survey ships and curious adventurers.
Later, after Galapharma AC began to exploit the Perseus Spur and faced attacks from Haluk colonies there, the big Concern and Zone Patrol got tough. Humans and Haluk fought a brief interstellar battle near the human colony of Nogawa-Krupp, and the aliens were soundly defeated. Facing the potential annihilation of their eleven colonial planets, the Haluk signed an armistice. One of its terms halted their Milky Way expansion; another precluded human exploration of the Haluk Cluster.
Barky Tregarth figured he had a chance of making the trip and coming back alive because he was a smuggler, not a representative of a Concern or CHW. The Haluk desperately needed the superior technical equipment made by humanity, and the only way to get it was through contraband dealers like Barky. Most human outlaw traders dealt with the Haluk in deep space; but a handful of the most favored made brief visits to Haluk Spur colonies.
One of the favored ones was Barky.
Without telling his wagering pals, he prevailed upon a Haluk business acquaintance on Artiuk to provide him with a letter of introduction. Then he returned to his base on the freesoil planet Yakima-Two, a notorious smuggler hangout, and made his wager. It was a very large one.
He fitted his starship, which was over twice the size of Makebate, with oversized fuel cells as I had done, and still had enough room left in the hold for a cargo that he thought would ensure him a warm welcome once he arrived. He loaded his ship with high-end computers, force-field generators, portable antimatter powerplants, programmable virtual-reality ticklesuits, a single Bodascon ULD engine of the latest type, and 1,500 Japanese silk kimonos in subtle colors, size okii, highly coveted by Haluk males as wedding garments.
Then he set off where no human had gone before.
Even thirty-five years ago the scanner technology on Barley's ship was hugely superior to that of the Haluk. He managed to elude all of their patrols, he found the solar system where the cousin of his Artiuk acquaintance resided, and after some very fast talking he was allowed to come landside in his gig.
The cousin, whose name was Ratumiak, was on the personal staff of the planetary governor and a person of considerable influence. He advised Barky to forget any notion of selling his valuable cargo. Instead, the smuggler presented everything to the governor as a gift. On Ratumiak's advice, Barky told the Haluk official the barebones truth: that he had made the trip on a bet.
The governor thought that was hilarious.
He compared Barky's lunatic exploit to a similar jaunt by a legendary Haluk hero and declared that the bold human voyager would be treated as an honored guest. Barky got a grand tour of the Haluk world and asked a lot of questions about the alien civilization. His roguish sense of humor, snarky jabs at Commonwealth policies, and shocking tales of Concern corruption made a great hit with his hosts, who showered him with gifts—some of great intrinsic value, including a diamond ear-stud from Ratumiak and the fossil set in platinum given to him by the governor.
Barky had a marvelous time during his eighteen-day stay and didn't mind that most Haluk looked on him as an entertaining freak. Amazingly, a few Haluk females found him sexually appealing, and taught him several astonishing things he would later find useful in his love-life. When it was time to depart, he was bid a cordial farewell and warned never to return to the Haluk Cluster under pain of death.
He set off for the Milky Way and had nearly made it back safely to his base on Yakima-Two when he was attacked by a human pirate ship. Its scanners were even better than Barky's, and its ship faster and better armed. The bandits forced Barky to surrender, boarded, and stole all of the Haluk gifts except the fossil, which Barky managed to detach from its chain and conceal in a bodily orifice. Then the pirates stole his ship, too.
He was set adrift in a lifeboat and eventually rescued by a Rampart freighter, which dropped him off on Hadrach, from which he made his way home to Yakima-Two and the heartbreaking discovery that he wasn't going to collect on the big bet.
"That was really an unfortunate happenstance," I said as he finished his tale. "Losing your ship on top of everything."
"Oh, I got that back a year or so later with a little help from my friends," he said. "I knew who'd taken it, you see. But the alien jewelry and stuff were long since disposed of." He shrugged. "Then I got busted by the patrol and jugged on Tyrins. I think you know the rest of the story." The ironic smile again. "I escaped, knocked around the galaxy, ended up here, got lucky. Just imagine my surprise when the Haluk snowed up in the Sag. They hadn't forgotten me, either. We do good business. I intend to keep on doing good business." The smile turned cold, and once again I felt the frisson of uneasiness.
The waitress came up behind me again and asked if we'd like another round.
"A Peg-Leg for me, Lola," Barky said. He seemed relaxed and amiable. "And some of my private-stock whiskey for my friend, here. The Wild Turkey Single-Barrel." She left us, and he said to me, "You'll really get a kick out of it. Best I ever tasted."
"I've heard of it, never tried it."
He held out the EFT card. "You ready to validate this now?"
"Just a few more questions. Did the Haluk planet you visited seem heavily populated?"
"You better believe it. High-rise buildings packed to the rafters in the cities, affluent folks in the suburbs living in little cottages on handkerchief-sized plots. Ratumiak told me his planet had a population of nearly twelve thousand million. Other worlds were even worse."
"How many inhabited worlds were there in the cluster?"
"Around thirty thousand, Ratty said. Ideally, Haluk need T-2 worlds. They'd already colonized all of those, plus all of the T-l's and a fewT-3's that weren't too hopeless. But they'd really run out of suitable land. That's why they made the big jump to our galaxy, even though it w
as a terrible drain on the economy."
I had already done the horrifying calculation in my head. Twelve billion times thirty thousand equals ... 360 trillion Haluk? It was forty times the population of galactic humanity!
"Uh—do you know how they manage to mine transactinides without sophisticated robotics?"
His expression turned grim. "The lepidos do it. You know, the thick-skinned intermediate racial morph. Even in heavy armor, the poor bastards don't live long on R-class planets. They're convicts. Gracile-phase cons work in the orbiting collection stations until they go lep. Then it's down to the mines. A lepido miner turns up its toes, the supers retrieve the armor, send somebody else down." "Appalling."
He shrugged. "Different strokes for different folks. It's gotta be a dandy crime deterrent."
"Do the Haluk have a large supply of ultraheavy elements?"
"Don't have a clue."
"Would you say they're highly industrialized?"
"You bet. Not up to human standards when I was in the cluster, but I understand that's changed. Haluk are quick on the uptake. They're good at copying our technology. Even make improvements on the original."
Well, we had proof of that already. One of my friends had compared Haluk ingenuity to that of the preindustrial Japanese.
"Drinks, gents." Lola the waitress set them down.
I thanked her over my shoulder. "One last question, Barky." Then I'd hook him to the little machine and—zotz! I'd modified my earlier plan slightly. Instead of slipping him a mickey, I'd modified the interrogation device to deliver a taser bolt. If I acted fast, I could have both of us behind a hemispherical force-field shield within seconds. Then out the back door and into the elevator...